Lionheart
by QueenMeenah
Summary: Dave Strider is 19 years old, living alone in the country of Texas. While solitude can be nice, it gets rather lonely sometimes - until he meets John Egbert, a wild child that survives in the nature and has manners as though raised by wolves. Dave takes him into his home and shows him the world outside of the woods, trying to get the lionhearted boy to fit in.


The keys to his home jingle as he pulls them out of his pocket, the trees creaking overhead. Dave Strider pushes them into the slit, pushing the door open with a loud creak while a long beam of light lay across the ground. He can see dust scattered on the musky, hard wood floor, the round carpet that sits in the middle of the floor is damp and he would rather not want to know why. So this was his new home. He felt a bit crestfallen, but he couldn't help it – the place was a gross dump, but it's nothing a bit of fixing couldn't do. He pats the wall for the light switch, rubbing and papping it gently until he felt a grasp of the switch, pushing his finger from underneath it so light illuminated the room. Dave squinted a bit at the bright light and dragged his large bag inside of the house, floor creaking underneath his shoes. He gently pushes the door shut with a freckled arm and turns swiftly, taking in the features of his new home.

A sofa is pushed to the right wall, with a small, oak coffee table sitting in front of it. A lamp sits on a side table next to the sofa, turned off. An eerie feeling looms in the air of Dave's new home as he glances back to his black, shiny car. He got the bags out of the car but the furniture truck would be getting here soon. His brother said he had a surprise for him, and Dave is honestly scared to know what it is due to all of the dumb times his brother set a stupid prank on him. He places his fingertips against the frame of his window that sides next to the door and stares outside at the dirt path, sun beating down on the ground. It was nearly 2:00, from what his phone told him, and he arrived just on time from when he thought he would show up. A few moments later, gravel sounds from outside and a large truck pulls into the path, parking.

Dave tries to see who it is while the driver's seat door opens slowly and his shades inch down the bridge of his nose slightly. He narrows his eyes through the rays of light beating down and there shows the figure of a slim man that looks rather strong and a dark grey cap on his head with stupid pointy shades. It takes him only a few seconds to realize that it's Bro, his older brother. He felt a bit crestfallen, like a little child gets promised to get a great gift and not getting it, but all the while surprised that he was the one behind the wheel. While Bro was approaching the door, Dave made his way to it and opened it, summer heat wafting inside of the house. Bro sprints up the weak steps, slowing down a bit in surprise at how wobbly they were. "Sup, little man?" Bro says, balling his hand into a fist for a friendly fist-bump. They bro-fist, and Dave smiles a tad. "Not really little anymore." He says as he steps out of the way for him, so he can walk in.

Bro lets out a long whistle as he strides inside, hands stuffed inside of his pockets. "What a dump." he says in a teasing way and Dave glares from underneath his shades, ignoring his silly comment on his new home. "Are you going to help me carry this furniture in our what?" Dave says as he steps out onto the porch, glancing at the tall man. "We can look around the house when were done, just come on." Dave says and Bro turns to him, following after him to the back of the truck. The sun beat down on the back of his neck, heating his scalp and he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose quickly. Bro follows slowly behind and the both of them work together to drag the furniture out.

Dave had a few furniture fell on his foot a couple of times. His cheeks were red from the summer heat, large trees overhead groaning as the sun began to set below the skyline, making the sky shine a bright orange colour. Their shadows walked beside them as they carried the last of the furniture inside, the dining room table which was especially rough to carry inside. Dave's arms ached and his legs felt like they were about to break when they set the table down near the window in the dining room.

Bro brushes his hands together, smiling at their work. "We done good, Dave," Bro says slowly, "We done good." And Dave smiles at his comment. The sun rolls beneath the hills, the hills a dark shadow colour. The indigo sky seems bigger than it did in the city, which was crowded with large skyscrapers and buildings that made the sky seem cramped. But in the country, the sky seemed…peaceful, with millions of stars dotting the sky. Dave and his brother cracked open some apple juice and watched TV for a while.

Saying farewell to his brother and watching the truck drive off into the night; he shut the beat up door. His back ached from carrying all of the furniture in, and he think he was ready to turn in for the night. Dave picks up the remote controller and flicks off the TV quickly, letting out a splitting yawn, it almost echoing through the halls of the home. The house was large, with 3 stories – the basement, the floor where he's standing on and upstairs, where his bedroom and guest room is located.

He sidles past the coffee table and into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of milk to make him more sleepy. He opens the fridge and the cool air pours out and onto his face, making him shiver a bit as he reached to the top shelf for the carton of milk. He then reaches into the upper cupboard to grab a glass cup that was rather small, and placed it on the marble counter. After pouring his milk, he continues to place it in the microwave.

As silly as it sounds, Dave enjoys warm milk because it soothes him just like it did when he was a child. He also has a thing for chocolate milk. But not as much as warm milk. The milk is in there for exactly 50 seconds, counting down by the second. Suddenly, Dave hears a unusual noise that from his upstairs floor – a loud thud. Dave shrugs it off, assuming it's something that just fell over as the microwave went off in three loud beeps.

Dave takes the hot cup out of the microwave, quickly setting it to the side for it to cool down. Then, the thud sounds louder this time, following by a long drag. A surge of fear shot through Dave's veins quickly as he straightened his posture. While he left the milk to cool off, he pushed himself towards the staircase, staring up the long, spiralling darkness of the upstairs floor. Reluctantly, he began to make his way up the weak steps of your new home.

An eerie silence hung in the air of his home, the only sound that echoed through the house was the soft creaking of steps underneath Dave's socks. He reached the hallway on the third floor, staring down into the dark path. His eyes were adjusted to the dark by now as he held his breath, listening closely for anymore noises.

Drag.

Drag.

_THUD._

"_Crap!"_

The voice came from Dave's bedroom and he flinches a tad, trying to creep up onto whatever was in his room. There was a slight struggling noise as he stopped right beside his door and the whole house went silent, except for the sound of leaves rustling outside. He takes a deep breath, listening for any breathing coming from inside of his room as he throws himself inside of his room, flicking the light on.

The room was empty. Dave looked around quickly, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that was hiding in his room. "You can come out now." Dave says in a stern voice, stepping farther into the room with shaking legs. There were no breathing noises or anymore tapping, as Dave turned towards the bed and there was a loud noise behind him.

_CRASH._

Dave turns quickly to inspect the noise to see a young man on his stomach. He was pale, with dirt patches and scratches all over his body. Sitting up with a groan, his ocean eyes widen to the size of saucers as he scatters up, backing up against the shelf. "Who are you?!" Dave commands, stepping closer to him in a heap of rage. "Tell me or I'll call the cops."

"I'm John!" the boy says, looking horrified of Dave's sudden snapping as he put his muddy hands up in defence. There were leaves in his hair, and one side of his glasses were broken and he lost a couple of teeth. "Alright, John…" Dave says, calming down a bit as still stood tall, trying to look stronger than he was. "Why are you in my home?" Dave asks in a stern voice, glaring from underneath his shades.

"Well…" John says, cracking a cocky grin slightly. There was a slight silence before John hesitated and replied, "I don't have a home. I live in the woods and it's so cold out there!" It almost sounded like a tacky excuse to just barge into his home, but Dave bit his lip, thinking. "In the middle of summer?" Dave suddenly said, tensing up again. John's face turned red and he looked from side to side, and before John could reply, Dave spoke up.

"I believe that you live in the woods, though." He looked at John's attire with a quirked brow. He had no shirt on and then he just had ripped up jeans and no shoes. "What, were you raised by wolves?" Dave asks, placing his hands on his hips with a loud huff. John sniggers at his comment, placing a bony hand to his lips and quickly darting out of the room and down the hall. "Hey!" Dave yells, running after the savage.

Dave Strider wasn't strong as most people go. He was tall, lanky, yet very very weak and slow. He lost all of the races at recess when he was a child, coming in dead last place where people called him 'slow-poke' even though it's not that much of an insult to sting somebody, but being a 5 year old back then, it hurt to get the tiniest little insult. John sprints down the steps, howling with laughter as he skids to halt at the kitchen entrance.

Dave catches up to him, gasping for air as he staggers forward towards John, who is grinning like an idiot. "What? Am I too fast for you, bud?" he asks as he steps back into the kitchen. "What do you want?" Dave asks in a husky voice, hands on knees while he pants. John purses his lips, a sudden sadness clouding over him. "Too fit in, I guess…" he says under his breath, looking to the ground.

This was surely a side of John that he hadn't expected, in his 10 minutes of knowing him. Dave sits up, and lets out a reluctant sigh as he stuffs his hands into his pocket. "Look," he began, "I'll help you fit in the normal word. In one condition!" Dave says, raising a finger as John's face lit up in a state of happiness. "You behave." Dave says sternly.

John looks reluctant but glances to side to side, smiling just a bit.

"Deal."

"Then were set." Dave says, smiling.

It was a long night for both of them and it was about time to go to bed.


End file.
